I can’t believe he’s finally here, and already three months old. I definitely can believe it’s taken me three months to finally get back to blogging! I never even posted my last blog about being pregnant (site wasn’t working) and now here I am, trying to remember all the things I wanted to blog about over the last 3 months. I’m just going to start at the beginning and see how far I get.

On a Sunday night I stood up from the toilet and saw a few drops of liquid hit the bathroom floor. A huge adrenalin rush was followed by denial: my water didn’t break. But after 5 minutes of making sure I wasn’t just peeing myself, I broke something else: the news to Neil. He reacted with denial as well. But half an hour later when the contractions started, we finally believed it. Very soon they were only two minutes apart, and at midnight we headed to the hospital.

At exactly 5 am, Simon was born. My shock somewhat blocked my emotions. I was so happy to hold him, but it was so surreal I couldn’t get my mind, much less my heart, around it. Later that day, amidst a marathon of visitors, my feelings started catching up with reality and I thought Simon was the best thing ever. Despite the annoyances of hospital life, my stay was pure joy, because Simon was there. The second day, the first wave of postpartum emotions hit and I started crying with joy as Neil hugged me. Our boy had arrived!

Simon slept almost constantly in the hospital. I had a hard time waking him up to eat every couple hours. I, on the other hand, barely slept for days. I was in labor through Sunday night, barely slept Monday with all the visitors, and kept waking up that night every time Simon spit up mucus. He sounded like he was choking and it terrified me.

We went home on a beautiful sunny day, with Simon so tiny in his car seat. I didn’t feel too scared to leave or when we first got home, but that night the fear hit. Here was this precious baby whom I’d nurtured for nine months but just finally met. He was so tiny, so vulnerable, and so invaluable to me. What if he died? The first few nights I kept crying because I was so scared. Neil prayed with me and I tried to trust God in a new, hard way.

I’m not sure how to describe postpartum emotions, except to say they’re the most intense I’ve ever felt. It’s this huge significant life event of bringing your child into the world plus sleep deprivation plus hormones that are like PMS times ten. I kept crying because I was so overjoyed or so overtired or so over-scared, or so all three. Then in the midst of my fear I remembered a song I heard while visiting South Street Ministries church:

He did not lead us out just to bring us back again. (4x)

Though there be giants in the land, I will not be afraid.

He brought us out to bring us into the Promised Land.

This became my anthem and Simon’s lullaby. After a long hard wait for Simon’s arrival, I learned to believe God would use Simon for good in my life, whatever happened. Learning to trust God with your child doesn’t happen all at once; surely I’m only in the primer stage. But I kept singing and praying, and Simon kept living. And I’ve never been happier. When you have a baby you realize you were made to be a mom.